Play with me
by fen-san
Summary: Murrue and Natarle are engaged in a game. Shojoai with some mildly sexual ideas. Mainly because if these two were men you know they'd have been slashed to death by now.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer – still do not own any of the characters or battleships and whatnot in this fiction, but hey, I'm not making any money off it so why worry?

Murrue sighed into her warm tea after Mu had left. Perhaps he was right and she had been a bit hard on Ensign Natarle. She stood up and paced restlessly, rubbing her face as she tried to sort things out in her mind. It was a good thing they'd been granted some leave, both officers and crew were showing clear signs of stress. Even she was, otherwise she would never have turned a professional agreement personal. Murrue may have been a laid back Californian gal, but she was still a professional and this time she had stepped over the line. She had to apologise.

Standing up from where she'd angrily thrown herself onto the sofa she shoved her feet into a pair of slippers and took off to do the right thing.

Natarle came and answered her door personally, a novel, quaintly old-fashioned thing to do in an era of automated doors. She was also wearing something Murrue didn't really expect. The forceful, coolly efficient officer was transformed into and elegant quiet beauty thanks to the kimono she wore.

Natarle was tired and had simply thrown on an old yukata when she'd got in, before the door demanded her attention. She hoped that the breath she'd caught in her throat wasn't audible. The captain, the attractive, dominant, respect worthy captain was stood at her door in her underwear, slippers and an oversized white man's shirt. Long legs and a hint of cleavage were revealed as the soft, worn cotton glided effortless over the rest of her shape, concealing it, but hinting at the hidden delights.

Whether it was fortunate or not that both were accidentally wearing outfits that stimulated the other's libido was yet to be discovered, although one suspects that the hentai god of sexual comedies had a hand in that.

Then Natarle blinked and regained herself. 'She wouldn't want me anyway.' She thought to herself as she moved back from the door to let her superior into her quarters. 'What did you need me for, Captain?' She asked as she moved away, somewhat thrown by the generally surreal nature of the situation she found herself in.

'This is wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong hot! She is a professional, my underling, I should not….' Murrue managed to pull herself away from the train of thought Natarle's pink cheeks and flustered behaviour had caused. 'I came for an apology Ensign.' Then before Natarle could say anything Murrue lurched down into a deep and sincere bow, remaining bent over as the computer had stated was appropriate in this situation when dealing with a Japanese person. 'I apologise from my cruel and unprofessional actions earlier today. I stepped over the line and hope you can forgive my impetuosity.'

A pressure around her upper arms eased Murrue back upright and the feels of those firm, surprisingly strong hands on her person had an effect. 'I accept your apology Captain. Things have been very tense of late.' Unconsciously her hands tightened on Murrue's biceps as she remembered some of the things that had caused recent stresses. Murrue could feel the taller woman's breath in the hollow of her neck and found the warm damp air strangely soothing. Clearly Murrue was not thinking straight because she laid her head on Natarle's shoulder and relaxed. She smelt strange, the clinical shipboard soap overlaying the more organic natural scent of the woman and mingling with the faintly floral odour of the paper the traditional robe was laid in.

Natarle was surprised but not repulsed or offended by Murrue's reaction, instead sliding her arms around Murrue, enjoying the way the soft warm fabric slid over smooth skin. She buried her face in that brown hair that had always struck her as excessively feminine and self-indulgent for a woman of rank. She'd never been permitted long hair, too impractical for her military upbringing and she'd never really mourned the loss herself, although it had given her an exotic fascination for women who did have long hair.

Murrue noticed that the almost knee-length sleeves of Natarle's kimono had slipped back to expose toned forearms. The contrast between that expanse of skin and the demure nature of Natarle's costume struck Murrue as highly erotic and far more sophisticated than the vulgar shows of flesh to which she was more accustomed. This had to be explored so she captured Natarle's fragile wrist, then slid up the forearm and under the folds of the warm soft sleeve. Different kinds of soft mingled in her senses as the contrast between warm healthy skin and soft worn fabric which retained body heat assailed her sensitive fingers.

They moved to the sofa and sprawled in silence, Natarle propped up against the backrest and her superior officer sprawled across her lap, head leaning into her chest in a decidedly unprofessional manner. For once Natarle did not mind, actually she rather liked it and decided to be bold. Her heart raced faster than it ever did in battle as she leaned down and tilted Murrue's face towards her for a kiss.

Natarle wore cherry lip balm, Murrue discovered. She also discovered that Natarle was inexperienced to say the least. Given how those crazy Japanese seemed to place a lot of importance on female innocence and first kisses according to those cartoons she'd seen it was not surprising. A plan formed in her mind and it came as some surprise to the Californian that she intended to grab onto this chance before it passed her by. This confusing train of thought did not prevent her from returning the kiss with equal enthusiasm though.


	2. Chapter 2

Murrue stayed all night despite the fact that they didn't progress beyond some fairly chaste kissing. Part of it was to do with her plan. She was curious about her ending and knew that to get close to her would mean she had to build up a certain level of hard-won trust. But she was also genuinely interested in the other woman on a personal, emotional level. And it tickled her to know that Ensign Natarle Badgiruel got cold in the night and was apt to snuggle up to any heat source in range, even her captain.

Natarle stared up at the ceiling, entranced by the wisps of vapour rising from her hot bath. Kami but there was something about the captain when she wasn't disobeying orders or plotting to put ship and crew in mortal danger for the dozenth time that week Despite giving the woman her first kiss she couldn't afford to get too involved. They were fighting a war and it was inevitable that sooner or later one or another of them would be sent to their deaths.

Still, there was one more bridge shift to complete before the leave period began. Tolle took the ensign's silence as a good sign, but the strange expression in his captain's eye gave him the willies, When women looked that thoughtful when work wasn't occupying them it was generally a bad sign.

Natarle liked the silence. She liked silence in general for one simple reason – it meant they weren't in a battle. Her stillness and quiet seemed inhuman, but Murrue felt more aware of the other woman after the previous night and took the time and care to notice the tense shoulders and back under the starched white uniform. She wanted to slip that jacket off and slider her hand over those rock hard tense muscles and feel them relax under her warm palms.

Tolle was definitely freaked out when the captain smiled at Ensign Natarle's stiffly alert back. Especially since it was not her usual compassionate smile. He knew those two could be pretty explosive, but this was a whole new level of unnerving. It looked like the captain was moving onto a whole new realm of conflict after yesterday's ugly explosion. He heard it had got pretty nasty and hoped sincerely that they cleared things up before one or another of them was forced by events to leave.

He confided in his friends. Athrun was predictably shocked and disturbed by it, but the others were more philosophical, taking it in their stride as simply the fortunes of war.

By the end of the shift there was something of a holiday atmosphere on the bridge, with bright faces, animated conversation and a less repressed feel than usual. Even Natarle's shoulders loosened slightly and she tilted her head back with a sigh, favouring the youngsters with a rare smile. They blinked and returned it, a little surprised by the officer's rare good mood.

Okay so she wasn't exactly skipping and whistling but Natarle was feeling positive about things. It was an unusual state of affairs and for once her natural caution was not raining on the tentative hope she felt. Natarle wondered if she would see the captain again tonight. She certainly hoped so.


	3. Chapter 3

'Oh my poor captive Leopard.' Murrue crooned under her breath, observing the tears drying on the sleeping woman's face. Slowly Murrue sat on the edge of the bed and watched her… interest sleep. After a while she stood, leaving a delicate card behind. So it was a Heian era cliché and inappropriate since they had not consummated anything, but it should certainly pique Natarle's interest.

Natarle tapped the card against her chin thoughtfully. She'd realised something at this carefully constructed melange of compliment and insult – this was a game and she had better start playing it or Murrue would take her to the cleaners. She closeted herself away and started planning and researching.

Mu stared. Okay, so he'd sort of vaguely been aroused by the second in command, especially when she was all business and those dark eyes burned with zeal and passion as she fought the captain bitterly to get her input heard, but this was different and possibly ever so slightly wrong. He knew that even the most dedicated of soldiers had to shop, even for clothes but…. The attractive woman laughing in a sundress was not the woman he intellectually feared and respected was she? And what was she doing with Mirialla, the both of them in and out of changing rooms in a huge variety of outfits, sharing jokes and chattering like a pair of light-hearted schoolgirls? So Mirialla did really count as a schoolgirl, but what was she doing with Natarle? Another question the war hero had to ask himself was why this scared him so much. Women scared him. He shivered and decided to sneak away and seek out Murdoch to spend some time alone doing manly things and bonding in a masculine fashion. Yes.

Natarle walked the kid back to her friends, enjoying the shocked expressions of the crewmembers who saw her passing in a short summery dress. Not that such petty amusement showed on her face. She'd actually enjoyed herself today, getting away from the ship and breaking away from her routine completely with someone she would not usually socialise with. It was only the second day of their month off and already things were 'relaxed'. Shhe ably dodged a small stampede, watching in bemusement as Kira was tied up and dragged away by a very determined looking Chandra and Romero. Strangely Kira didn't look all that unhappy about the situation so Natarle just shrugged and let them get on with it.

Mirialla touched her cheek in surprise after Natarle had left. It still felt warm, as if that ghost soft brush of affection and gratitude still lingered on her flesh.. If this was a hint at the real Natarle Badgiruel beneath the military training then she hoped whatever had caused this change turned out well. Natarle could be scary at the best of times, an emotionally wounded ensign did not bear thinking about.

Murrue opened the door and gasped. It had been a long time since anyone had bought her flowers and this delicate arrangement was in an unusual modern clay vessel, clearly something special. Someone with taste and funds had bought this for her. The mystery was solved as soon as she plucked the message card from it. The card was unsigned, but the regularity of the romanji and the nondescript, unshowy black ink made it clear. Murrue knew who had written this and got the hint at once.

A knock at the door alerted Natarle and she quickly sorted herself out with some difficulty. She hoped her hunch was right, otherwise she'd expended a lot of time and energy getting dolled up for nothing.

Murrue nearly dropped her bottle of wine. Sweet Jesus Natarle looked good in that formal kimono, but then she'd made an effort herself and she knew she looked good. The hunger and fascination in Natarle's expression only made her feel more smug and she closed the distance between them decisively for a kiss.

They somehow got the door closed before the kiss got too intense as Natarle pressed hard into Murrue, roughly sliding her hands down Murrue's back to grope her in a somewhat frank manner. Heavy silk parted as Murrue slid her hand into the skirt of the kimono, her hand travelling up the smooth leg and under the constricting obi. It was an erotic sight, Natarle's exposed lower half contrasting with the demurely clad upper body.

Natarle stepped away, getting her breath under control. 'Dinner should be ready.'

Murrue gawped then laughed as the satisfied tone of voice sank in. She had been caught out!


	4. Chapter 4

Natarle put her plates in the washer and turned to Murrue with a slight smile. It contrasted with the clearly mixed emotions on the rest of her face. Murrue returned the smile. 'I guess we're even now.'

'So it seems, Captain.' Ouch, that was a frosty tone of voice.

The other woman seemed undecided on how to react to the fact that her emotions and trust had been toyed with so Murrue decided to react before either of them did something they'd regret. She wasn't prepared to lose now, not when these events had forced her to thing about their relationship in a way that made a return to a professional frigidity painful to even think. 'Look, we probably shouldn't have done it this way and I should have taken your inexperience into account, but, fancy going ahead with it anyway? We're clearly hot for each other and to turn away now over injured pride would be a criminal waste. We can always apologise in the morning.'

Natarle blinked, then grinned, effected by Murrue's American bluntness. 'Sure, why not?'

Tonomura tried sleeping with his pillow wrapped around his head, fruitlessly trying to muffle the sounds filtering through too thin walls, but to no avail. He hoped they got over the novelty of their relationship soon because he couldn't stand much more of this. He'd been patient, but if he had to stand another week of this he was getting a transfer any way he could and to blazes with his immaculate record.


End file.
